


it's calling me back, house of sugar

by transcendencism



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: (its honestly pretty vague and kept to interpretation about what exactly happened), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Nonbinary Character, Past Abuse, Past Brainwashing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Star Wars: The Old Republic - Shadow of Revan, but xe is actually nonbinary, oh boy here we go - Freeform, there's like one line that refers to self-harm/suicidal tendencies, xe's tagged as "male imperial agent" just to get into more tags and thats how xe is in-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transcendencism/pseuds/transcendencism
Summary: If xe were actually fighting for the Republic this time, it could be different. The Republic isn’t without flaws, Theron had said so himself, but if there were ever a right side to a war, maybe it was with them. Theron sees something in it, at least. He’d nearly lost his entire career chasing a conspiracy (and doesn’t that sound familiar) that threatened the Republic, and had gone so far as to cooperate with Imperials; even offer one of them a new home.Yiress thinks about home, and what comes next.
Relationships: Hunter (Star Wars: The Old Republic) & Male Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine & Theron Shan, Male Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine & Theron Shan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	it's calling me back, house of sugar

**Author's Note:**

> i originally posted this a few days ago & then deleted it because i was... embarrassed of it, i guess? i edited it one last time and figured that since i spent ~2 weeks on it, i might as well keep it up.
> 
> title from "gretel" by (sandy) alex g
> 
> edit (10/30/2020): this fic is no longer canon, but think of it as like an AU!

It never stops feeling clammy and humid on Yavin 4. Yiress had felt it the moment xe descended the ramp of Jakarro’s freighter, and if xe didn’t mind it so much, xe might’ve joked about asking Revan to do whatever he was planning to do on another planet. Rishi hadn’t been cooler by any means, and with the portside town next to the ocean, it hadn’t been drier either. But Yiress had tolerated it for the sake of the atmosphere: pink-blue skies at dusk, and the constant hum of rolling ocean waves, not to mention the anonymity; no one was anybody important on Rishi, and Yiress could pretend to be simple. Normal.

Yavin 4 doesn’t have much going for it besides some rather intriguing flora, which xe imagines that Lokin might enjoy if he were here. If xe concentrates, xe can hear his voice next to xem, naming the particularly spiney, glowing plant that xe’s currently staring at. Yiress was never much for carrying on Lokin’s ramblings, but that was quite alright, he was happy to talk under the illusion that xe was listening. And if Vector were here, xe’s sure he’d have plenty of questions.

But he’s not. No one is. It’s just Yiress, pacing the jagged boundaries of the coalition’s staging area, listening to the ambient buzz of the jungle. There’s something about this planet that has been keeping xem from sleeping. Then again, xe has never slept soundly. But, on a starship with xyr crew, something about that place had felt almost safe. As safe as one can feel as an operative of the Empire.

There wasn’t much incentive to stick together after Imperial Intelligence was dissolved, and Sith Intelligence rose to take its place. Kaliyo had packed her things and went off to the next boss, and it was the only departure that Yiress had been glad for. The two of them had never gotten along, and somewhere along the line moderate annoyance had turned to hatred. Xe had honestly thought about killing her, once; one too many drinks, and she’d given xem too many toothy, predatory smiles, kept getting too close and touching too much--

Well, the ship wasn’t much emptier without Kaliyo in it.

The other losses had hurt more, Vector and Raina especially. Out of everyone else, Yiress thinks that, if maybe xe hadn’t been… xemself, xe thinks they would’ve stayed. If it’d been easier. Lokin and Kaliyo left because there wasn’t anything left for them there; Lokin felt he’d be better off continuing his research elsewhere, and Yiress was too boring for Kaliyo. And that was fine, xe hadn’t minded.

But at some point, between the battle with Darth Jadus, the Castellan restraints,  _ Hunter _ … it had all been too much. For months after xyr last confrontation with Hunter, when the fight was finally over and the war had begun, xe was inconsolable. Sleep was nothing but wishful thinking, and xyr confrontation with Hunter hadn’t brought the peace xe hoped it would. Instead, the lack of orders left xem without a purpose. Without Hunter, there was an aching, twisted emptiness that nothing could fill.

It was difficult enough to live with it inside xem, let alone living with the guilt of others trying to care for xem. Yiress never truly decided if xe liked Lokin or not, but xe cannot deny that he tried to be kind to xem. He was possibly the only one who didn’t pity xem, besides Kaliyo at least (she hadn’t stayed long enough to watch it get bad), and it was the only kindness Yiress could stomach: it was distant and could be excused for anything except sympathy. Of course, when Lokin was gone and couldn’t stay up late into the night to make sure Yiress couldn’t try anything, it was Raina. Then, when Raina couldn’t take it, it was Vector.

Vector was the last to leave, and it was the first and final time Yiress had seen him weep. He didn’t  _ want _ to go, but his primary duty was to his Nest. Yiress needed help,  _ real _ help, more than what he could provide with cups of tea and patient, understanding words. Raina had tears in her eyes when she handed xem her resignation letter. She was returning to the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force, not because Saganu had asked her back, but because she felt  _ overwhelmed _ , and that she’d rather be home.

_ Home _ .

Yiress kicks the loose pebbles at xyr feet across the stone courtyard. It’s a bitter sentiment xe has never voiced, and xe knows it’s a cruel thought to think, but Raina got to call the Ascendancy  _ home _ . The choice to join the Empire was not presented in the form of a blaster held between the eyes and a body overexerted from torture just to force out consent. It still wasn’t her choice, and maybe if she had protested there would’ve been consequences, but she hadn’t been  _ abandoned _ . If she wanted to return to the Ascendancy, and she did, they’d welcome her back with open arms. And, with Hunter gone, she didn’t have to worry about leaving.

Xe looks up from xyr boots at the coalition camp. Despite the truce, the camp is equally separated between the Republic and the Empire, just like the Revanite camps back on Rishi. But in the darkness of the night, with the jungle canopy choking out most of the starlight, the flags posted at their respective faction’s camps are hard to distinguish from the rest of the scenery. Yiress is thankful that they even managed to negotiate an alliance, but after spending the better half of a year with Lana and Theron, it’s strange to return to this.

Xe had seen many things, but one of the strangest was that team composed of a Sith Lord, a Wookie and his decapitated droid translator (not that Deefour did much translating), and two Intelligence agents, one Republic and one Imperial. And despite the hilarity and confusion that came from having a crew like that, it felt familiar. It reminded xem of xyr old friends (were they ever friends?), and it was as if nobody had left at all.

But now on Yavin, everyone has separated themselves again. Yiress knows it's for the best, and that the cooperation between xemself, Lana, and Theron would be impossible to replicate with the rest of the galaxy. It’d been good while it lasted, though. But the Empire was never Yiress’ home to begin with, even though xe has been a pawn of theirs for nearly six years. The Ascendancy raised xem, trained xem, and then  _ abandoned _ xem. Xe never knew xyr family, and the Ascendancy certainly didn’t mean home, not like it did for Raina.

Yiress’ absentminded wandering brings xem to the platform facing towards Yavin’s vast jungle below the cliff, not that there’s much to see at this time of night. The dim light of the stars and Yavin’s other moons aren’t enough to illuminate anything further than the top layer of the canopy and the edges of the temples on the horizon, leaving the rest of the landscape obscured in the dark. It seems even the wildlife is asleep, as the buzz of creatures and insects xe heard during the day has almost entirely vanished now. There’s the occasional hum of a mosquito hovering around xem, but other than that, it’s silent.

It’s a long way down, and though xe won’t admit it, xe isn’t very fond of heights. Xe sits xemself down away from the edge, folding xyr knees and bringing them to xyr chest. Though it’s humid, the temperature has cooled during the night, and there’s a slight breeze ruffling through xyr curls. Now that xe has left the cover of the trees, xe notices the faint, misty rain. There’s already a faint sheen on xyr uniform, but not nearly enough to soak through. Perhaps this moon isn’t as bad as xe thought.

_ “Sir, if you don’t mind me saying, but you’ve surprised me. You’re not as mean as I thought.”  _

Raina still had her Ascendancy uniform; she’d only been with the team for a week, and uniforms took some time to arrive, especially if the transfer wasn’t through official channels. She’s not Chiss, yet she hadn’t seemed at all bothered by the chill back on Hoth.

_ “Hoth brings out the worst in me.” _

It wasn’t the weather that made Hoth so unpleasant, nor its resemblance to Csilla. Yiress never had any issues with Hoth before, but that was before xe arrived on Hunter’s leash. No amount of pulling on the collar or snapping at the hand that held xem granted any relief, and whenever xe struggled, Hunter just pulled tighter.

The pain that memory elicits folds xem over xyr knees, and a twinging agony begins making its way through xyr chest and into xyr extremities. When the tingling reaches xyr fingers, xe realizes that the warm wetness on xyr cheeks are tears, rolling down and dripping off xyr chin. It doesn’t matter that Hoth was several years ago, or that Hunter’s been dead all this time, because when Yiress presses xyr forehead to xyr knees, xe swears xe can still feel the leash. Phantom fingers circle xyr throat and  _ squeeze _ , choking out a strangled, pathetic sound past xyr lips that sounds too much like a sob for xyr comfort.

And it’s with that first cry that it all boils over; Yiress honestly can’t recall the last time xe cried, but it’s apparently been a while. It all rushes out in quiet but forceful bawling, and xyr whole body tightens with each new wave of grief. Detached from xyr current state, a thought occurs to xem that maybe xe ought to go back inside before one of the night-shift guards stumble upon xem. The suggestion goes unheard by xyr limbs, which remain firmly rooted to the ground. Instead, a more miserable feeling crosses xyr mind: xe wants to go home. Just like Raina had said, but home isn’t so much a physical location as it is an unattainable safety; Yiress wants to go home, but home is not xyr ship, nor Dromund Kaas or Csilla. It is far away from here, but not in the sense of distance.

That logic doesn’t chase away the feeling; it doesn’t bring xem any comfort.

“... Yiress?”

Xe freezes; xe doesn’t have to turn around to see who the voice belongs to, but xe isn’t sure if xe’s thankful for the answer. Xe would’ve preferred not to be found at all, caught crying in the middle of the night with the edge of the platform just a few footsteps away. Cautiously, xe scrubs xyr eyes and turns just enough to look back over xyr shoulder. As xe suspected, Theron is standing not far behind them. Xe has never known him to be unassured, but there’s an uncharacteristic insecurity to the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, worry etched into his face. It’s an expression xe is unfortunately familiar with. “Not many people can sneak up on me.”

There’s a long pause as Theron considers how to respond, and Yiress nearly answers for him until he speaks again. “Guess you’re out of practice,” he says like he’s trying to make a joke, but his tone is flattened by concern. He takes an experimental step forward, and when Yiress doesn’t voice an objection, he walks the rest of the way until he’s standing by xyr hunched form. “Mind if I sit?”

“Why not,” Yiress mumbles and glances at Theron as he sits down, “I can’t say I don’t appreciate the company.”

Theron hums in agreement, and the conversation lapses back into silence. The rain is picking up now, but Yiress isn’t complaining, and so Theron doesn’t either. The steady drumming of the droplets pinging against the stone fills the void their voices left, though the rhythmic sound doesn’t bring the peace it usually does. After a minute or so, Theron clears his throat. “So… what was all of that about?”

Yiress scoffs; it’s not the softest way to ask that question. “What, the crying?” Xe pauses, unsure for a moment of how to answer. Between the two of them, Yiress always found Theron easier to trust than Lana, which is ironic considering the organization he works for. There’s another pang in xyr chest when xe thinks about that connection, and xe shakes off the thought before it goes too far. “Just… bad memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Xe laughs and shakes xyr head. “What is there to talk about, Theron?” What hasn’t xe said to anyone else already? The silence returns, even more uncomfortable than the last, and Yiress finds it hard to ignore the water soaking xyr hair. The clammy night air clings to xem, but xe doubts that that is the source for xyr unease: Theron’s worried stare isn’t very subtle.

Eventually, he sighs and breaks his gaze away. He wipes a few damp strands from his forehead but doesn’t bother with a witty complaint about the rain. “I’m not stupid, Yiress,” Theron’s eyes are back on xem, and xe flinches slightly when his hand touches xyr shoulder, “I know something’s up, and I don’t know what will help but… I’m here.” The warmth of his palm feels alien, and xe can’t help but wonder the last time anyone handled xem so gently. 

Xe wonders just how silly this might look if someone were to stumble upon them: an SIS agent and a Sith Intelligence operative sitting side by side in the pouring rain. Lana might not ask many questions, but were it anybody else... The thought of pushing Theron away and returning to xyr bunk crosses xyr mind, but his hand hasn't moved, and… it’s nice. Theron looks nervous, like Yiress will push him away, but instead… xe shuffles to sit closer to him.

There’s a wariness in him as xe moves; xe can feel it in the way his fingers twitch on xyr shoulder. But he ultimately stays put, and Yiress brushes his hand with xyr own: it’s a silent acknowledgement of gratitude that xe hopes he understands. He must get the message, because in the dark xe swears he smiles before finally dropping his hand away. Xe frowns a little at that, but this moment’s fragile enough as it is, xe doesn’t dare push too far.

“I told you about my old team, right?”

Theron looks thankful when Yiress speaks, and he pauses to think before nodding. “A bit, yeah. Never said what happened to them,” he glances at xem before turning his head forward again. Yiress follows his gaze to the temples in the distance, which are more visible than they first were when xe came out here. It’s there xe notices the first blush of dawn bordering the horizon. It’s not unusual that xe stays up this late, but xe doesn’t see the actual sunrise often. Most of xyr late nights are spent in xyr office in xyr starship.

“While I was doing work for Imperial Intelligence, before it was dissolved, I encountered a foreign operative: code name Hunter.” The name still tastes bitter, like xe let it steep for too long. “At the time, I was a double agent within the SIS, and he was my handler. One of them, at least.”

“He wasn’t  _ really _ SIS though, but that’s… a long story,” Yiress pauses to glance at Theron, and xe isn’t shocked to find him looking back at xem with that analytical expression on his face, as if he’s trying to solve a particularly tricky puzzle. “He knew the codeword for my brainwashing, and he was… very enthusiastic in how he used it.”

“Wait,” Theron holds up a hand to stop xem, “you were  _ brainwashed _ ? By the Empire?”

Yiress shrugs. “I fought a rogue Darth and survived, and that made the Dark Council nervous. Even if I was doing the mission assigned to me, they couldn’t risk an operative standing up to the Sith, and so the Castellan restraints were a safeguard.”

“And this Hunter found out about it?”

Xe nods. It’s… odd to repeat all of this to someone who was never there; eventually, xe had to explain it to Raina and Vector who saw so little of it yet witnessed the dramatic shift in Yiress’ personality and didn’t know why. Telling it to Theron though, there’s an absence of tension that xe hadn’t even realized was there in the first place. “Whatever the command was, I had to obey it. I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mission, and I couldn’t tell anyone about what I was ordered to do.”

Theron swallows nervously, and that thoughtful expression has twisted into dread. He’s no doubt arrived at the conclusion that Yiress has yet to tell him. Yiress waits for him to stop xem, to say that it’s too much and that he regrets asking. Instead, he waits for xem to continue; whether that’s out of morbid curiosity or genuine concern, xe isn’t sure.

“Hunter took it too far during a mission on Hoth,” Yiress takes a steadying breath, “and I wasn’t the same after that. I was so determined to make him pay for what he did, and when I finally caught up to him…”

If there’s one skill Yiress trained, it was the art of a steady hand. In such a crucial moment, a shaking hand can throw off the aim, and the shot can miss entirely. But even at point-blank range, with the cold mouth of the barrel pressing an indent into Hunter’s forehead, xyr whole hand trembled.

_ “Why did you do it?”  _

The details that the mind preserves are strange: what stands out the most to xem, even now, was the torn fabric of his jacket. They’d gotten into a scrap, and Yiress’ vibroblade had cut deep more than once, but in other places it barely broke past his coat. Hunter never dressed formally, and he certainly didn’t have the cleanest complexion, but he had a way of looking composed and well put-together. In those final moments though, with bruises blossoming on his face and blood trickling down his face and that stupid, torn-up jacket, he looked… well, like a mess, to put it simply. He almost looked as bad as Yiress felt.

Hunter smiled, and that grin alone made xyr stomach turn.  _ “You know why.” _

The pistol spun in xyr hand, and xe slammed the grip against his temple. Hunter swore as his head cracked to the side, but the smile found its way back onto his face, as if it hadn’t even hurt.  _ “Wanted to see if you could go that far without cracking. I didn’t realize you’d like it so much; you’d do anything for someone to give you orders.” _

Yiress never saw his expression, but xe felt Vector stare at xem, and maybe he put it together then. Xe never told him the entire story in detail, about what had happened when he left the room with Raina. Xe wasn’t sure if xe could get through it without blaming him, as unfair as that would be. Vector was as unaware as the rest of them, and he’d failed to see past Hunter’s charm and find the rot underneath. Yiress was the only one with the luxury (or curse, maybe) to take off the rose-tinted glasses.

“You killed him?” Theron asks, and there’s no judgment in his voice.

“I did.”

“... That’s probably a good thing.”

Xe shakes xyr head with a somber laugh. “It didn’t help, though. Hunter was dead, but I was still hurt and there was no one left to shoot.” It makes xem sick to xyr stomach to say that Hunter had become xyr purpose, but unraveling the conspiracy plotting against the Republic and the Empire didn’t have the same personal weight to it. Xe couldn’t give a damn about the Empire then, and that’s hardly changed now. Hunter had crossed a line though, and making him pay had given xem more direction than xe ever had since the Ascendancy let xem be captured. Once that was gone, what was left?

“I was having trouble after that; once it was all over, my mind could finally process it.” Lokin’s diagnosis of post-traumatic stress had come rather quickly after Hunter’s death (though xe isn’t sure he had the psychology background to make that assessment), but having a name for it didn’t improve the symptoms. “It got too much for them all to handle, and so they left. I don’t  _ blame _ them, but…”

“You felt abandoned,” Theron’s voice is softer than xe’s ever heard it, and that alone almost makes xem start crying again.

Yiress blinks a few times to ease the burning of unshed tears. “Something like that.” Xe clears xyr throat, and Theron at least looks away so xe can wipe xyr eyes. “After a couple psychological assessments, Intelligence put me on medication and sent me back into the field. I became a lone operative again. Medication helped with the mood swings and the paranoia, so I could actually do my job, but… I don’t think I ever really dealt with it.”

Theron doesn’t respond for a while, and so Yiress looks back at the still lightening sky. The rain had finally eased up sometime ago, and in its place is the sound of the jungle waking up. It’s getting warmer too, and once the sun rises, it’ll be unpleasantly hot. Eventually, xe hears him breathe in deep, and xe turns to him again. “Before I say this, promise you won’t stab me.”

That startles a chuckle out of Yiress. “Since when have I threatened to stab you?”

“You haven’t yet, but I like to be prepared.”

“Alright, fine,” Yiress’ smile fades, “what is it?”

He sighs again, shifting in place to face xem fully. “Have you thought about leaving the Empire?”

Yiress narrows xyr eyes; that’s not a particularly offensive question, so xe can only assume there’s a follow-up. “Once or twice, but I don’t think I could handle civilian life. And I can’t go back to the Ascendancy. This is all assuming that the Empire would even let me go, which I doubt they would.”

“Well,” Theron pauses, and for a moment xe wonders if he’ll take it back. “There’s the Republic. When this is over, you could come back with me.”

“To the SIS?” Yiress glares at him; xe opened xyr heart to him, told him all of xyr baggage, and now he’s asking them to come back to the people who had a hand in it? “Did you hear anything I said?”

Theron holds up his hands placatingly. “I know how this sounds, but please, hear me out.” 

“... Fine.”

Theron sighs in relief. “When I found out that I couldn’t use the Force, the Jedi offered me a place in the Service Corps. It sounded better than foster care, so I took it.” Yiress’ eyes soften when xe hears the bitter note in Theron’s voice; it’s a scar that’s been healed a long time, but still tender when you push too hard. “But knowing that Master Zho left me behind, and that my own mother couldn’t raise me… it  _ hurt _ . It wasn’t going to stop hurting as long as I stayed there.”

“The Republic isn’t perfect, the SIS certainly doesn’t have clean hands,” Theron continues, gesturing a hand towards the Imperial side of camp, which is more visible now in the early dawn. “But it’s not the Empire. You could get out.”

Frowning, Yiress shakes xyr head. “My handlers in the SIS used my codeword, just like Hunter did. They’re no better than him.”

“Well, that’s not the way I do things,” Theron bites back, “I work for them, but they don’t own me. They won’t own you either, and I won’t let them brainwash you into following orders.” Then there’s the look on his face, with his brows knitted together and nose wrinkled in anger, that xe remembers from Rishi, when Lana had betrayed him. “I’m not saying you have to stay with the SIS. If it doesn’t work out, you can hand in your letter of resignation, and we’ll figure something else out.”

“It’ll be easier to convince Master Satele to bring you back with us to the Republic if I tell her you’re defecting to the SIS, but after that, you don’t have to stay,” Theron adds. He waits for Yiress’ reply, but all xe responds with is silence. A few moments turns into a minute, and Theron sighs in defeat and shakes his head. “Forget it—“

“You said ‘we’,” Yiress finally says, xyr lips twisting into a smirk. “I thought teams weren’t your style.”

After a moment’s pause, he returns the smile. “Yeah, well, things change. You, Hyroh, Oriothe… you convinced me otherwise.” The first rays of light break over the horizon and catch in Theron’s eyes as he looks to watch the sunrise. Yiress follows suit, appreciating the more comfortable, contemplative quiet nestled between them.

There’s risk in defecting; Theron may be able to hand in a letter of resignation, but there’s no such luxury in Sith Intelligence. Even retirement is nothing more than a pipe-dream, as you either die young, or you’re locked away because you know too much but outlived your utility. Yiress was already so young when the Ascendancy sent xem on xyr first mission, and though the stress should’ve killed xem by now, xe can serve xyr purpose still. As broken as xe is, xe’s still a valuable asset.

But the Empire is not xyr home, and it never has been. Yiress was never loyal to them, never believed in the system. Xe’s hated nearly every minute xe spent in service to the Empire. But, xe believed in the Ascendancy once, even if xe were engineered to. The Ascendancy had its chance, and though Saganu attempted to soothe that ache, it didn’t change the fact that Yiress had been captured and the Ascendancy opted to send a second assassin to terminate xem rather than rescue xem. And between Project Blindsided and the Castellan restraints, xe certainly wasn’t given much incentive to stay.

If xe were actually fighting for the Republic this time, it could be different. The Republic isn’t without flaws, Theron had said so himself, but if there were ever a right side to a war, maybe it was with them. Theron sees something in it, at least. He’d nearly lost his entire career chasing a conspiracy (and doesn’t  _ that _ sound familiar) that threatened the Republic, and had gone so far as to cooperate with Imperials; even offer one of them a new home. After Lana had betrayed him, Yiress figured that Theron wouldn’t trust xem either, and he didn’t, but only for a while. He came around eventually, and Yiress doubts he’d trust any other Imperial to have his back.

The sun clears the jungle canopy, and the camp is bustling with the sound of early-risers; soon, it’ll be back to another day of recon and mission briefings. Yiress looks over xyr shoulder at the opposing sides of the coalition camp, the respective flags illuminated by the rising sun. When xe turns back again, Theron is watching xem.

“We’d make a good team, wouldn’t we?” Yiress says with a growing smile.

Theron returns it, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that can’t just be the rising sun. “We already do.”


End file.
